Traditional Frights Can't Compare
by T-c3
Summary: Gotham's first Halloween with the Joker won't be soon forgotten.


Disclaimer: Many people own these guys, but I am not one of them.

* * *

Halloween seemed like every other day in Gotham, since there were already people running around in costumes. The only difference was that crime was not supposed to be involved. Halloween was simply an excuse for children to stuff their faces with candy, then proceed to bounce off the walls for the rest of the night.

What amused Bruce was that after Batman came into existence, a few children dressed up like him. They didn't sell full costumes in the stores, but the masks were easy to come by. Kids seemed to improvise with the rest of the costume, usually wearing black long johns and tying a black sheet or blanket around their neck for a cape. It was an odd sight, but it brought a smile to his lips. Children needed a good role model in this city of corruption.

There was one thing that deeply worried Bruce, though. It was the first Halloween with the Joker, and he just happened to be on the loose once again. He briefly wondered if the Joker planned to escape in time for the holiday. Bruce couldn't be sure, but a day that encouraged frightening people half to death sounded like something the madman would enjoy. So when daylight hit the cloudy sky, Bruce immediately sat in front of the TV with a police scanner by his side, waiting to hear of any word about his nemesis.

Alfred walked in about an hour later with breakfast, not surprised in the least that his young master wasn't in bed. He set the tray wordlessly on the table next to the lively scanner. It was a strangely busy morning for Gotham's finest.

The clinking of the silver tray made Bruce jump slightly, and he looked up at Alfred with tired eyes. "Morning," he said as he yawned slightly.

"Good morning, Master Wayne. Did you get any sleep last night?"

Bruce shook his head and settled his gaze back onto the TV screen.

"Isn't this the fourth night in a row that you haven't slept?"

The young man couldn't help but grin at his butler's tone. Even though Alfred could never take his father's place, he was the closest thing Bruce had to a fatherly figure. Alfred had many roles: butler, guardian, assistant. At this moment, he was playing the role of guardian, scolding Bruce for neglecting his body's basic needs.

"Yes, but it's not on purpose." Quite the contrary. He desperately wanted to lie on his soft mattress and ignore the rest of the world for a couple hours, even if that meant his mind was going to torture him with violent and disturbing dreams. "I'll sleep during the day tomorrow. I don't have anything planned."

Alfred frowned, knowing that his charge would probably make up some excuse for staying awake again. "If you don't get some rest soon, Master Wayne, I may just be forced to drug your tea."

Bruce chuckled, although he knew that Alfred was only half kidding.

----------

The day had been very uneventful so far. It was one o'clock, and Bruce was still glued to the television screen with one ear listening to the scanner. The severe lack of sleep was getting to him, and he had caught himself dozing off a few times. He almost wished something would happen just to break the monotony. It was break in, robbery, domestic dispute, robbery, complaint of loud music, car chase, robbery . . . He trusted the Gotham PD to be able to take care of such matters, so he didn't bother getting worried. All he cared about was word on the psychopathic clown.

Suddenly, the name came up. On the 24-hour news channel, an anchor said that name as if he was about to start a big story. Bruce immediately became alert, sitting up straighter and opening his eyes wider. Ultimately, he was disappointed. All the anchor said was that the Clown Prince of Crime was still on the loose, and the police had no leads.

Bruce groaned and dragged a hand down his face. Yes, he didn't _want_ the Joker to cause any trouble, but his lack of activity made him more nervous. It was very unusual that the man was being so quiet ever since his escape two weeks ago. The first thing the Joker always did after escaping Arkham was coax Batman out and get under his skin. It felt like it was his obsession, or at the very least his hobby. The fact that he'd been staying under the radar probably meant that he had something big planned. Bruce's stomach twisted when he thought about how many children would be out running around later on. He decided that if he didn't hear anything by dusk, he'd go out on patrol.

"Master Wayne, I really suggest you focus your attention on something a bit healthier for at least a little while," Alfred said as he came up behind him.

"I can't afford to," he replied automatically. He would be so angry with himself if the Joker made his move the minute he left the TV and police screener. Bruce just couldn't take that chance. He had made it _his_ responsibility to make sure the Joker didn't hurt any more of Gotham's citizens.

That was when the screener crackled with the news Bruce had been waiting for. He grabbed it and held the black box close to his ear, not wanting to miss a single word. Apparently, the Joker had left a message scrawled on the side of a building in letters two feet tall. Bruce wondered how he was able to pull that off without being noticed. But when the message was said over the airwaves, he had to suppress a shiver.

"'_Don't forget to smile, kiddies. You'll want to go out looking your best. Oh, and beware of tricks.'"_

Bruce knew what he really meant by that. The Joker was targeting _children_. He had already suspected as much, but the confirmation made his anger flood to the surface. After throwing the police scanner to Alfred a little harder than he should have, the young man dashed out of the room, not caring that it was still daylight outside.

---------

The clown giggled as he watched the nervous face of the anchor who was delivering his message. Apparently, police didn't understand what his true intention was. He only hoped Batman was watching somewhere in Gotham. He knew the Bat was smart, almost as smart as him. Most likely, though, the Big Bad Bat had been huddled in front of the television set for the past two weeks, so he definitely saw it. The Joker liked to think Batman didn't have much of a life outside of catching bad guys.

A moan suddenly came from the bathroom, and the Joker sighed in frustration as he got to his feet. Once at the doorway, he asked with disgust, "Aren't you dead yet?"

The older man squirmed in response.

Reaching into his pocket, the Joker extracted a knife and tsked. "I like that movie, you know. It was my inspiration," he stated as he gestured to the bleeding wounds with the tip of the blade. "Must've made people afraid to take a shower." The Joker laughed, kneeling beside the tub and taking the petrified man's chin in his hand. "I need a place to stay, you see, and I don't like to share." With that, he slit the man's throat, laughing hysterically as his victim made gargling sounds in an attempt to scream.

He rinsed his knife in the sink and wiped it dry on his overcoat, not wanting his favorite weapon to rust. Now all he had to do was wait for the sun to set. Everything was already in place thanks to his numerous thugs. Well, not so numerous now. After the preparations were completed, he killed every one of them. Two weeks of being a "good boy" was plenty. His bloodlust had begun to manifest, making him twitchier and more irritable than usual. Killing them filled him with a great sense of relief. It made waiting that much easier.

With a few hours to spare, the Joker plopped back onto the couch and flipped through the channels. Nothing struck him until he landed on a picture of Batman. It took him a minute to realize that it wasn't a news report but some kind of special program on the Bat. It made him chuckle that Gotham was almost as fascinated with the Batman as he was. At that point in the program, they were speculating on what was his true identity. The Joker didn't really care who was under the mask. Knowing wouldn't change who Batman was. And if he happened to find out, he'd merely use it to his advantage in some way.

Then the name Bruce Wayne came up. The billionaire playboy of Gotham City. Well, it made sense. He had the resources, after all. The Joker snickered as he thought of a way to rattle the Bat, if their speculations were true.

---------

Even when he was trying to hide in what little shadows there were, Batman didn't care how hard it would be to find the psychopath. Knowing that the Joker liked to give his performances at night, he didn't have a choice, or a whole lot of time. The Joker was a hard man to track down after every escape—this would make number five—but he would _always_ find him eventually. Batman chastised himself for not simply going out to find him earlier, but he supposed he was naively hoping that the clown would stay quiet for a little longer.

He followed a couple leads that the police had ignored, and he ended up at an old apartment building. Just as he was about to scale the wall, a panicked voice buzzed in his ear.

"_To all available units, we need assistance on Paxton Street. Nine, I repeat, nine bodies have been found behind Millennium Warehouse. They've sustained brutal stab wounds, and smiles have been cut into their faces."_

Batman had to think quickly. Head over there to investigate, or keep going on this route. He realized the likelihood that the Joker stayed anywhere near the area was very slim, and the fact that most, if not all, of his henchman had been killed meant that whatever he was planning to do was all set and ready to go. Taking a chance, Batman shot his grappling hook onto the roof.

----------

The program on the Bat quickly grew boring, so he shut the TV off and chucked the remote onto the end table. With hours still remaining, the Joker stretched and decided to take a short nap. He hadn't slept in days, and he was beginning to feel it. Sitting on the lumpy, yet comfortable, couch made his body go limp and his eyelids droop. Before he slipped into unconsciousness, he pulled out his cheap cell phone to set the alarm. It wasn't like something exciting was going to happen any time soon.

After dropping the phone onto the floor, he fell sideways and flung his legs up onto the stained cushions. The Joker sighed as his constantly taut muscles relaxed, and his eyelids finally slid shut.

----------

Once inside the building, Batman had the large task of figuring out which door the Joker was behind. He was almost certain he had the right building, but with five floors to cover, he needed to come up with some kind of shortcut. Increasing the sensitivity on the device in his ears, Batman walked from door to door, hoping that he'd hear something he'd recognize.

One door gave him a strange feeling. The TV was on, and he could have sworn he heard the name "Batman" at least three times in under twenty seconds. Then the TV flicked off, and after a moment, he heard a loud sigh. Something about that sigh made him twitch.

Figuring it was worth a shot, he knocked on the splintering wood.

A groan and then, "Go away!"

Batman's eyes widened. He knew that voice. He considered breaking the door down, but he wouldn't put it past the Joker to leave it unlocked. The madman would simply kill whoever walked in. Anything for a little entertainment. Disgust and rage pumped through Batman's veins as he tested the doorknob, and he couldn't help feeling slightly pleased with himself when it turned all the way. Finally, he was able to predict something about the man. But he wasn't expecting the sight that greeted him.

The Joker was sprawled on a shabby couch, appearing either tired or drugged. He didn't even budge when he cracked an eye open to look at him. Instead, his peaceful expression contorted into an agitated one, and he made a motion with his hand in a lame attempt to shoo him away. "You still have time to stop me. Just let me sleep," he demanded as he rolled over to face away from the intruder.

Caught off guard, Batman halted for a moment and stared at the Joker with a mixture of confusion and outrage. He _dared_ to tell him to back off when he was planning on harming children? But it was a strange demand, and that made him stop from beating the clown's face in. He grabbed the infuriating man's shoulder, forced him onto his back, and hauled him up by his collar, putting them at eye level with each other.

The Joker growled in response, fidgeting in Batman's unrelenting grip. "Do you think sleep is too good for me? C'mon, at _least_ give me ten minutes."

He ignored the request, trying desperately to keep his anger from exploding. The man's casual attitude wasn't helping, though. "What are you planning to do to them?" The words were forced through tight lips. It all depended on how the clown answered. Batman didn't need too much of a push before he would snap, which was mainly due to being on edge the entire day combined with a severe lack of sleep.

Licking his lips, the Joker soon forgot about wanting his nap and instead focused on Batman's dangerous eyes. It seemed that threatening children pushed the right button. He made a mental note of that as he relished the attention he was getting.

When the Dark Knight pulled him closer, already impatient, he grinned and asked, "Where's the fun in just _telling_ you, hmm?"

He knew what the Joker was doing. Although beating him to a pulp would definitely make himself feel better, it would only waste valuable time. So he decided to take the unfamiliar road. Batman released his hold on the psychopath and let him drop onto the couch. After taking a step back to show that he wasn't going to swing his fists, a variety of emotions passed across the Joker's face. It started with shock, then suspicion and a few other emotions he couldn't pin point. But it ended with fury, one that shook the Joker's fists and made his lips form a snarl. After standing abruptly, he went to punch his adversary in the unprotected part of his face. Batman caught his fist with ease, but he still didn't hit him.

"What are you _doing_?" the Joker hissed.

"I need to know what you have planned." He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible, hoping that this new approach would work.

The madman glared at him a bit longer, his body dripping with tension, but then he chuckled and plopped back onto the couch. He couldn't help but be amused with the Bat's actions. It was almost cute how much exertion it was clearly taking to restrain himself. The Joker just couldn't stay mad at him.

"Well, Batsy, I happen to be a fan of Halloween," he stated casually, sitting back down. There was a calm smugness about him as he looked up at the Bat and crossed his legs.

"I figured," Batman replied monotonously.

"Then you can understand why I want to do something special to celebrate."

His mouth twitched as he held back another barrage of angry thoughts that begged him to break every bone in the Joker's body.

The clown saw that twitch, and he grinned in return. "And this holiday is more for the kiddies, right? So I thought I would give them a little _present_."

Taking a quick step forward, Batman growled, "And what is this 'present'?"

"Ohhhh, Batsy!" He jumped to his feet, laughter bubbling up from his throat. "I don't want to spoil the surprise! And I said there's no fun in simply telling you. I'd rather _show_ you." He dug his hand into a large coat pocket and produced a homemade detonator, one that Batman recognized from the ferry incident. Switching it on, the Joker grinned wildly and sauntered up the masked man. "Wanna take a guess at how many bombs I have set up around Gotham? If you guess right, you win a _prize_!"

Without hesitation, Batman went to grab the detonator, but the clown pulled a knife out from seemingly nowhere and pressed the cool metal against his lips. Batman froze when the serrated edge of the blade was turned on him.

"Just so you know, Mr. Billionaire, I do have an extra one."

The new nickname confused him, but he let it go. Rather, he kept his eyes transfixed on the device, wondering if the Joker was bluffing.

Twirling it expertly in his hand, the Joker laughed and backed away. "Were they wrong? Thinking about it, it's so obvious. I wonder why I never thought of it before! Anyway, even if you know where all the bombs are, there's no point in doing anything about it. They're on timers, so even if you stop me from hitting the switch, you won't save anyone." He laughed again when he saw Batman's eyes widen. He could imagine the man's face going pale as well. "Are you gonna pound me into the floor and tie me up now, Brucey?"

_That_ nickname caught his attention, but instead of reacting to it, he leapt forward and grabbed him by his coat's lapels, shouting, "Tell me where your goons put the bombs!"

The Joker paused, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, before he broke out into hysterical laughter. His entire body shook and soon his sides cramped up. The man was so consumed with saving Gotham that he didn't even care when his greatest enemy found out who he really was. He just wanted to save those who were beyond saving.

Batman couldn't hold it back any longer. He punched him in the gut, cutting the obnoxious laughter short. Then he smashed the clown's face into his knee, secretly enjoying the crunch of his nose breaking. That only made the Joker howl with laughter. Batman let him drop to the floor as he tried to collect himself. Getting angry wasn't going to help the situation. He _had_ to control his emotions.

After he calmed down, the Joker set his nose back into alignment without even wincing, licking his upper lip to get the taste of blood. He leaned his back against the couch and smiled up at Batman, who, by that point, was holding the detonator. "They're not ordinary bombs, you know," he began conversationally. "When they go off, a poisonous gas will be released. It's quite nasty. Their eyes will burn and the blood vessels in their lungs will po_p_." His eyelids fell shut, that mocking grin still in place, as he was hit with a sudden wave of fatigue. "It'll be a Halloween Gotham will never forget."

Alarmed, Batman stared at the device in his hand. _Panic_. That was always what the Joker wanted. But going after children? It certainly wasn't below him, but it was a first.

"What happened to not telling me?"

He shrugged. "I changed my mind."

A moment of silence followed. Then Batman remembered that he had interrupted the Joker's nap earlier, and he wondered if the man needed sleep just as much as he did. He had to find and disable those bombs. Kneeling down in front of him, he asked as calmly as he could, "If I let you rest for ten minutes, will you tell me where the bombs are?"

Intrigued, the Joker opened his eyes and stared at him, head cocked to one side. It was an interesting proposal, especially coming from the Batman. Normally, he would just laugh in his face, but his limbs were pleading for a break. Letting a sigh escape him, the Joker nodded. His head lolled back onto the edge of the cushion, and his eyes closed once again. He could feel the Bat's suspicious glare, and for whatever reason, it helped him fall asleep faster than he had in years.

Batman didn't move from his spot, not caring how uncomfortable it would be to stay kneeling for that long. Keeping a firm grip on the detonator, should the Joker snap awake and try to grab it from him, he scanned the room for a clock. For the entire ten minutes, his eyes darted from the Joker's face to the dully lit numbers. What really struck him, though, was just how peaceful the man looked. No one would think he was a murdering psychopath, maybe just a little out there. The ghoulish clown makeup, the scars, and the odd fashion sense would make anyone back away. Although, Batman realized that this was the only day in which the Joker actually looked normal. His appearance would simply be chalked up to it being Halloween. Even Batman's appearance was rather appropriate for the holiday.

Really, he couldn't believe that he was actually letting the madman sleep. Children's lives were at stake, and here was Batman watching the Joker take a nap on the floor of someone else's apartment. He didn't even want to think about where the true inhabitant was and what kind of condition they were in, which was mostly likely not breathing. But perhaps he felt just the tiniest bit of empathy for the madman, since he could really use a nap himself.

Once the ten minutes were up, he roughly shook the man's shoulder, eager to undo his demonic plan. He stirred briefly, but he remained in a deep slumber. Annoyed and impatient, Batman punched him in the face. The Joker fell onto his side, but he shot back up and looked around wildly, disoriented by the rude awakening. When his dark eyes settled on the masked man, he calmed down almost immediately.

"Where are the bombs?" Batman rasped.

"Well, hello to you, too." He wasn't irritated, despite his tone. Actually, he was rather amused. Cracking his jaw, he looked over at the clock and calculated how much time was left before chaos would rule over Gotham. "Alright, _Mr. Wayne_, a deal's a deal."

Batman's eyes narrowed.

"Don't you worry." He gave him a charming smile, as charming as he could be anyway. "I won't go telling anyone. That'll ruin all the fun."

"All you care about is having 'fun,'" Batman spat, fists clenched. "Just tell me where they are."

The Joker clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Y'know, if you learned to lighten up, we could have a _lot_ more fun together."

"Just tell me!" he roared, shaking him.

"Ohhh, calm down, Brucey," the Joker said as he patted the top of his cowl. "A bomb is in every place where the kiddies gather on such a night. You have about two hours before they set off on their own."

"How many?"

"Five."

"Where's the backup detonator?"

The Joker sighed. "So many questions!"

"Where is it?" he bellowed, standing quickly. He had forgotten how long he'd been kneeling and almost lost his footing from the prickly sensation in his legs. "And you need to be more specific about the locations."

"You're a clever bat. I know you can figure it out on your own."

He glowered down at him. "I don't have _time_! Just tell me where the bombs are!"

Getting fed up with the redundancy, the Joker stood and glared back at him. Then, without warning, he snatched the detonator from his hand and ripped the key out.

It happened too fast for Batman to register, but the horror crashed into him once he heard the explosions in the distance. He should have known the Joker would never truly cooperate, no matter how much the psychopath prided himself on being "a man of his word."

The Joker instantly broke out into a fit of high-pitched laughter. The look on Batman's face, or what he could see of it, was priceless. It was as if the Bat still didn't understand how impulsive he could be. Going against any well thought out plan was as easy as breaking the skin with a sharp blade.

In that moment, with the man's cackling drilling holes into his head, all Batman wanted to do was kill him. He'd felt that powerful hatred before. It was becoming a common occurrence when dealing with the Joker, and he had eventually figured out what always brought him back. Squeezing his eyes shut and taking deep breaths, Batman receded into Bruce as he tried to gain control of emotions. The image of his parents' smiling faces replaced all thoughts and images related to killing the manic clown. Slowly, Bruce allowed himself to be Batman once more, and the level of rage he felt was manageable. Instead of wanting to kill the man, he only wanted to beat him unconscious.

After some time, the Joker calmed down to a giggle here and there. Wiping his eyes, he looked at the seething man and thought it was peculiar that only his expression betrayed his violent thoughts. The Joker recognized the body language Batman had when he was especially furious, but the man was simply standing there. It made him start to laugh again. The Bat was getting better at restraining himself. He'd have to fix that soon.

"Brucey, you should know better! It's Halloween, after all."

"_What are you talking about?_"

"It's a joke, a trick," he replied simply, a wide grin stretching his marred lips. "The gas isn't poisonous. It's just regular ol' smoke, tinted orange in spirit of the holiday. My trick _and_ my treat. Even though maybe only one or two died at each cite, if they were close enough to the explosion, the panic at what those billowing clouds could be gives me enough of a thrill." Laughing again as the expression on Batman's face turned to horror-stricken confusion, the Joker placed a finger on the tip of the man's nose. "Happy Halloween, Batsy."


End file.
